


to get a taste of you (so sweet)

by ohsoblue



Category: NoPixel
Genre: M/M, Multi, Praise Kink, Trans Character, trans siz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsoblue/pseuds/ohsoblue
Summary: Siz doesn't know what he expected when he's invited to dinner, but he probably shouldn't have been surprised.
Relationships: Joe Caine/Otto Delmar, Joe Caine/Otto Delmar/Siz Fulker, Joe Caine/Siz Fulker, Otto Delmar/Siz Fulker
Kudos: 13





	to get a taste of you (so sweet)

**Author's Note:**

> otto shows joe how to please siz, basically. also trans siz, front penetration, and otto calling them good boys. if that's not your thing, you've been warned.

There’s a certain level of surprise Siz experiences when the door opens in front of him and instead of just Joe, like he was expecting, Otto is also there hovering in the hall. Siz is suddenly very grateful he chose his black suit, considering how dressed up these two are.

“Come on in,” Joe practically chirps, swinging the door open as wide as it can go, casting a shadow through the entryway. Behind him, the sun continues to set.

Siz steps in and stands still as Otto closes in on him.

“Allow me,” Otto purrs, hands sliding over the front of Siz’s suit jacket. Otto peels it off his shoulders until his arms slide out of the sleeves. “Don’t forget your shoes.”

With a quick hand gesture, Siz follows it over to the shoe stand, where two sets are neatly stacked side by side. He checks Otto and Joe, notes that they’re both in their socks, and he kneels down to pull off his flip flops. When he stands back, Otto places a hand on his lower back and guides him down the hall.

Even as Siz takes in the interior of the house, the warmth at his back is way too distracting to fully care about what he’s seeing. It’s more modest than he expected- something very lived in and indicative of two people living here instead of one. It’s warm. It’s welcoming. It shaves off the trickle of discomfort he usually gets when he’s in someone else’s house.

Otto directs him to the dining room, but instead of letting him take a seat, he holds Siz’s hips, turning him around until his back is against the table.

Otto takes a few steps back, eyes raking over his form. There’s no explanation, just simple observation, and Siz fights off his insecurity. He can only hold the eye contact for so long before he looks away and meets Joe’s, who is closer to him than he was a moment before.

Joe is rolling his sleeves up, a little smile on his lips. He leans over and captures Siz’s lips, slow, lingering. Siz loses himself in it, eyes sliding shut. Hands cradle his cheeks as though he’s made of porcelain. A tongue slides over his bottom lip but pulls back when Siz parts them. Joe leaves him wanting, but the gentle swipe of a thumb under his eye leaves a line of heat across his cheeks. 

Fingers plucking at the buttons on his shirt captures his attention and he swivels his head back towards Otto, who raises a daring eyebrow. Once Siz’s shirt is open, much like his jacket, the fabric is pushed over his shoulders until his arms slide out of the sleeves. He hears the shirt drop onto the floor. 

“I thought we were having dinner?” Siz asks in the quiet, listening to Joe’s giggle.

Otto shoves him onto the table. Siz flails and grabs onto the edge of it, hissing at the cold surface touching his back. Hands grip his pants and, with quick work of his zipper, tug them down to his ankles until they fall off. Siz is _very_ embarrassed as everyone takes in the fact that he went without underwear to this ‘date’.

“Eager, sweetheart?” Otto teases, hands sliding up Siz’s thighs until he grasps them and parts them abruptly. Siz sputters indignantly and tries to cover himself. Before Siz can mutter any sort of defense, Otto continues with, “We had something else in mind for dinner.”

Otto’s foot hooks around the leg of a chair, bringing it closer to him. Siz’s heartbeat is loud in his ears compared to the scraping as he watches Joe slide behind Otto, adjusting the chair to his comfort. 

“Good boy,” Otto praises Joe and then takes a seat, where he slides it closer to the edge of the table. Siz squirms, feeling Otto’s breath against him. “You know the words, don’t you, beautiful?”

If Siz wanted Otto to stop, he would have said something way before this point. Still, he nods and nearly hiccups when Otto presses a kiss to his hip.

“Joe asked me for some advice earlier,” Otto says, as though he’s telling a story. He trails another kiss across his pelvis, achingly close to where Siz wants him to be. “Says that he wants to make you feel good.”

“He does,” Siz says, with a slur to his words. He swings his gaze to Joe, wanting to reassure him.

“Sure,” Otto allows. “But there’s always room for improvement.”

Siz swallows roughly, watching Joe’s hand slide beneath his waistband.

“So what he’s going to do,” Otto says, directing these words at Joe, “is sit there and watch. Understand?”

Siz watches Joe nod, eager and eyes bright.

Otto doesn’t say anything more as he leans forward, eyes locked on Siz’s. Very slowly, he lowers his mouth to Siz’s skin and presses hot sucking kissing from his hips to his thighs. His right hand begins to slide up Siz’s leg, thumb gliding over slick that Siz hadn’t noticed until then. Otto presses the same thumb to his lips, tongue flicking out over it.

Siz’s breath stutters in his chest, knuckles white. He watches as Otto scoots even closer, lips returning to Siz’s pelvis.

Heat slides down until Otto’s tongue is brushing the side of his cock. Siz whimpers, low and wounded, when Otto moves away. There’s a nip at his folds and hands hold his thighs spread, preventing Siz from trying to squeeze them around Otto. Siz tilts his head back, unable to take the teasing. He’s unprepared for the suction around his cock.

He lets out a gasp. It’s loud around them, makes him want to slap a hand over his mouth, embarrassment tearing through him. It battles his need, his want, and Joe’s eyes on him don’t help. 

An intrigued hum has Siz’s hips arching into Otto’s mouth. And Otto pulls away with a click of his tongue, cleaning his chin up with a couple of fingers that he holds out to Joe. After Joe sucks on them, Otto’s fingers are at Siz’s entrance, pushing in slowly, starting out with two. They slide in easily, thrusting at a slow pace. Siz can’t stifle the agonized whine at the teasing.

“Please,” Siz begs, hips lifting off the table, just barely able to find enough purchase to do so. “ _Please_.” His voice comes out as trembly as the rest of him.

If it had been Joe, he would have complied, but Otto ignores his pleas and continues the slow drag until he adds a third finger. Otto’s thumb nudges his cock, drawing slow circles against him. Siz sobs another broken moan, a small “ _fuck_ ” coaxed from his lips.

Siz is brought to the edge only for Otto to take his fingers away at the last second. Siz blinks watery eyes, aching empty as Otto unzips his pants, tugging them down to his thighs. Otto’s cock bumps into Siz’s, gliding through the wetness. It’s so close and yet so far from where Siz actually wants him. 

“Fuck, _please_ ,” Siz tries again, but Otto puts his clean hand on Siz’s jaw, a gentle caress against his cheek. Lips press against his neck, teeth imprinting on his skin; he knows he’ll have a mark he can’t hide.

Finally, _finally_ , Otto presses his cock inside, but he doesn’t move. He stands there, frustratingly still. When Siz wiggles, trying to press back against him, a firm hand on his pelvis prevents him from moving.

“Otto,” Siz whines, straining against his hand. He hears what might be a chuckle and balks at the audacity.

Otto moves at his own pace, thrusting a speed fast enough to keep Siz’s interest, but not enough to give him what he wants. Beside them, Joe has his lower lip between his teeth, cock in the open. He’s stroking himself to match Otto, eyes glazed in desire. 

Siz reaches up to grasp Otto’s wrist, nails digging into his forearm. Otto lets him suffer for a few more seconds and then he’s thrusting, hard and fast. Siz slides against the surface of the table, yelping in surprise. 

“Oh, _oh_ , shit,” Siz moans, thighs finally locking around Otto’s waist as his hips as guided to him. He fucks Siz through an orgasm, pulling Siz up against his chest, where Siz buries his face into his shoulder. His fingers grasp onto Otto’s white shirt, nearly ripping it when Otto’s reaches between them to stroke over Siz’s cock.

He’s brought to a second orgasm, breath punched out of him, thighs twitching and squeezing around Otto. Otto halts for a second, then speeds up and shakes as he cums, panting against the shell of Siz’s ear. They stay close and regain their senses until Siz is placed back on the table.

Too tired to move, Siz leans back and closes his eyes for a moment.

When Otto pulls out, he watches his cum drip out of Siz. He turns his head to Joe and steps to the side.

“Clean him up,” he instructs, watching Joe scamper into action, not even bothering to tuck himself away or wipe the mess off his hand. But he clicks his tongue when Joe hesitates, not sure what Otto’s asking of him.

Otto places a hand at Joe’s back, directing him onto his knees and pushing Joe’s face close to Siz. Getting the hint, Joe lets out a little whine and his tongue swipes over Siz. The combined taste of him and Otto makes him moan, tongue dipping inside, eager for more. Otto’s fingers comb through Joe’s hair as Siz pants harshly, clenching around Joe’s tongue.

“Too much,” Siz whines but doesn’t push Joe away. Instead, he lets him lap until Siz is shaking, cumming a third time. When he collapses, boneless, Joe pulls back and licks his lips. 

He looks up at Otto, eyes hopeful, and receives a pat on the head.

“Good boys,” Otto praises the both of them, and after making himself presentable, he rounds the table, disappearing from sight.

Siz groans when Joe prods his thigh.

“I’m _not_ moving,” Siz says. “Fuck off.”

Joe laughs and, with some effort, heaves Siz up, putting an arm around his waist.

From the hall, they hear water running. 

“Come on,” Joe coos. “A bath is just what we need.”

Siz groans again, but with Joe’s help, follows him.

At the very least, at the end of a long soak, they do have dinner. And dessert. Eventually.


End file.
